until she could finish some work
she had in hand for a lady more considerate than Mrs. Lander. Then she
applied herself with renewed industry to the three shirts yet to make,
which she finished at the time she promised to have them done. With the
money to be received for these, she was to pay one dollar and a half to
get her clothes from the pawnbroker's shop, buy her little boy a pair
of shoes,--he had been from school a week for want of them,--and get a
supply of food for the many mouths she had to feed.

Mrs. Lander received her with that becoming dignity of manner and
gravity which certain persons always assume when money has to be paid
out. She, as it behooved her to do, thoroughly examined every seam,
line of stitching, and hem upon each of the three shirts, and then,
after slowly laying the garments upon a table sighed, and looked still
graver. Poor Mrs. Walton felt oppressed; she hardly knew why.

"Does the work please you?" she ventured to ask.

"I don't think these are as well made as the others," said Mrs. Lander.

"I thought they were better made," returned the woman.

"Oh, no. The stitching on the bosoms, collars, and wristbands isn't
nearly so well done."

Mrs. Walton knew better than this; but she did not feel in any humour
to contend for the truth. Mrs. Lander took up the shirts again, and
made another examination.

"What is the price of them?" she asked.

"Seventy-five cents."

"Apiece?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Seventy-five cents apiece!"

"I have never received less than that, and some for whom I sew always
pay me a dollar."

"Seventy five cents! It is an imposition. I know plenty of poor women
who would have been glad of these shirts at half the price--yes, or at
a third of the price either. Seventy-five cents, indeed! Oh, no--I will
never pay a price like that. I can go to any professed shirt-maker in
the city, and get them made for seventy-five cents or a dollar."

"I know you can, ma'am," said Mrs. Walton, stung into self-possession
by this unexpected language. "But why should I receive less if my work
is as well done?"

"A pretty question, indeed!" retorted Mrs. Lander, thrown off her
guard. "A pretty question for you to ask of me! Oh, yes! You can get
such prices if you can, but I never pay them to people like you. When I
pay seventy-five cents or a dollar apiece for shirts, I go to regular
shirt-makers. But this is what we generally get for trying to encourage
the poor. Mrs. Brandon